Sunny Island
by wingks
Summary: With no jobs avaliable in his homeland, Ken is imported to Singapore to work as a construction worker. His life is spiced up by a certain red head colleague working together with him... RanxKen
1. Default Chapter

Chapter 1  
  
I have come from Bangladesh, specially imported to Singapore to work as a construction worker through a recommendation of a friend. It was almost impossible to find work back in my homeland. The whole place swarmed with jobless, homeless and sometimes clothe-less people. It makes me want to cry every time I glance around, despite being one just like them.  
  
After signing a contract to work in Singapore with some Takatori Agency, I was shipped across the Indian ocean together with twenty others in a few days. Really efficient, that they are.  
  
The trip on the boat was uneventful. Drained, blank expressions filled the whole boat. No one really moved around or spoke to each other at all. They were all complacent just sitting around and looking lethargic. We all waited below deck, hoping that no one would suddenly become seasick and disgorge onto the already crammed boat. Curse the lousy ventilation. It was terrible sitting in a dimly lit boat and trying to fan as much wind at my face as one possibly could. And the body odors of stale sweat emitted from each of us were really stomach-retching. It smelt a million times worse than boiled cabbages.  
  
Finally, the latch on top was pulled open. My eyes took a while to adjust to the sudden brightness that flooded the cabin. I welcomed the rush of cooling, salty air. It sure smelt better than down here.  
  
The guy who opened it was shouting strange words that I couldn't quite make out. I only knew a bit of English but could only catch it if spoken to slowly. Anyway, I figured he was telling us to get out. Wiping the sweat that had accumulated off my brow with my arm, I pushed my bum off the floor.  
  
The cohort of about twenty of us slowly filed out of the boat and onto the platform as our in charge did a headcount. I carried a sling bag which contained my passport, certificate of employment, health report and some change of clothing.  
  
The in charge was talking to another guy while we stood around in the damn hot sun looking anything but lively. I was starting to get fidgety when I noticed a flash of red hair through the corner of my eye. I turned to look at him. His face was deathly pale and the rippling of muscles beneath that pale skin as he tied his hair sent shivers down my spine, despite the weather. Wonder why I hadn't noticed him before.  
  
"Hey, nice hair," I stated, looking at him.  
  
He didn't notice me talking to him at first, but finally turned to look at me when he noticed I was staring at him.  
  
"You talking to me?"  
  
"Yeah. Nice hair."  
  
He gave me the look. The are-you-okay look.. which I tried my very best to ignore.  
  
"I'm Ken," I said. I brushed aside the sweaty bangs from my eyes that were coming into their line of vision.  
  
"Ran."  
  
I was about to ask him why was someone so pale like himself in our batch when my train of thoughts were interrupted by our in charge. All eyes focused on him as he spoke in a loud, barbaric voice.  
  
"You all got your passports right?" We nodded solemnly. "Ok, good. No passport, no contract, we send you back home. Understand? No illegal workers allowed here. I don want to get into trouble, you also don want to get into trouble with the police. Damn irritating."  
  
Waiting under the sun listening to some guy shout his head off wasn't my ideal start of the first day in Singapore. The sun was making itself very unpopular by shining down like that. Stupid sun.  
  
I turned my head just slightly, to sneak a peek at Ran. See how he was coping with the situation. He stood there, expressionless, though there were connotations of boredom in his drooping eyelids. Apparently he seemed to notice my eyes on him and turned to look at me. I know there was nothing wrong with checking on how a friend was doing but I found myself immediately tearing my eyes away from him and pretending to look interested in the in charge at the front. If my cheeks hadn't already been flushed by the hot sun, I wouldn't know how I was going to survive. I felt really nervous under the scrutiny of his glare, not sure whether or not he was still looking at me, though it felt so. Maybe it was just my nervousness.  
  
After our in charge, known as Mr Takatori, was done talking, he brought us to the Ministry of Manpower to register ourselves. All the paperwork had already been done beforehand, so it was probably just a confirmation check to ensure we got here alive. I don't know.  
  
Glass doors slid open voluntarily the moment we came into half a metre from it. Inside, the whole place was extremely neat and spacious. Even the floor was tiled and clean. The maintenance was simply amazing.  
  
But the first thing that struck me was the sudden coldness of the room in contrast to the outside temperature. Though I didn't know what caused the strange phenomena then, I found out later it was known as air-con, something the locals could never do without. Something that I had never felt or heard of before where I came from. It felt so superb that no words could describe how I felt then.  
  
We queued up to get our passports and health reports stamped. The officers behind the counter were very fast. They flipped open each passport to the desired page with incredible speed with one hand while the other stamped the page. He returned me with my passport and a few slips of paper to fill out another form.  
  
Of course the comfort of the air-conditioning only lasted for awhile. Another 10 minutes into the air-conditioned room and I was chattering my teeth away. My sweat soaked shirt wasn't making things any better. No more pockets of air to keep me warm.  
  
I scanned the paper. Breech of contract would land me in a pile of shit. Actually the list was longer but that's all I needed to know. A five year contract under some company called Crawford Construction Pte. Ltd.* that could be renewed at the end or something.  
  
Ran was amazing. He stood against the wall filling up his forms with the same impassive look on his face. Even if he felt cold, he definitely didn't show it. Wait, what am I talking about? How could an iceberg feel cold? Not sure what to fill in, I decided to see what Ran was scribbling away.  
  
Peeking over his paper, the first thing that caught my eye was his name. It was written as 'Aya Fujimiya'. Where's the Ran?  
  
"I thought you're Ran?" I said, more of a statement than a question.  
  
His pen stopped moving for awhile as he let his eyes scan through what he had just written to make me ask such a question.  
  
"I am," he said bluntly. I tried to make some sense out of it but after awhile it still didn't make sense to me. He figured I was still puzzled so he spoke again. "Aya's my sister."  
  
"She's gonna work with us?"  
  
Ran closed his eyes and hung his head in exasperation. When he opened them again he gave me a sidelong glance. "No. I'm just using her name."  
  
I was really, really confused now to the point of forgetting to fill in my own particulars. Why couldn't he explain more clearly? "Are you sure you can do that?"  
  
He shrugged. "Just used to it, I guess."  
  
"I think it's better you write your real name. I heard the authorities are very strict here," I told him.  
  
Ran thought for a moment before canceling the word 'Aya' with two neat strokes and writing 'Ran' on top instead. Then his pen stopped moving again. "Your form's empty."  
  
Oh yeah. Forgot about my form. I took a final glance at his and quickly filled mine in.  
  
Mr Takatori collected the forms and our work permits and put them in a paper file. After which he ushered all of us out of the building and to the side of the road, where a small truck was waiting. It was the first time I actually welcomed the sun back into my life. It felt good to thaw in the sun, though we still stunk. We crammed into the rear of the truck and once we were all on, Mr Takatori flagged the driver to drive off. I managed to squeeze into a spot next to Ran to engage in a little chitchat, but he was as usual too caught up in his own thoughts to notice my presence. The truck maneuvered out of the temporary parking bay and off we went to our next destination - the dormitory.  
  
AN: I think I probably got some terminology wrong. And I'm not sure of the sequence of events when foreign workers arrive in Sg. So.. if you know tell me. If you don't, then pretend everything sounds smooth. Savvy? ^_^ Pls review!!  
  
* Ministry of Manpower. The ministry in Sg that handles all the domestic and foreign workers work permits. And all issues regarding employers and employees go through there. * Crawford Construction Private Limited. Cheesy yes I know. I'm sorrae. :D 


	2. Chapter 2

The truck pulled up next to a big container like thing, which was labeled Crawford Construction Pte Ltd in white, bold army print.  
  
An orange headed guy hopped out from the drivers seat. He unceremoniously ushered us out of the van and into the container which apparently was our sleeping quarters. Next to our quarters was another metal container, I suspected to be the common toilets. He made sure every last one of us made it in before slamming the door shut.  
  
Our sleeping quarters were nowhere close to glamorous. A long row of mattresses laid out on the ground on either side of the cabin. Three elongated luminous light bulbs decorated the ceiling and on the walls were attached fans. The floor was cemented, which I considered a privilege. Overall, the place was rather clean in comparison to Bangladesh. I was hoping no one would quarrel over which spot they were taking.  
  
Unfortunately, I found myself to be the first one striking an argument over the trivial issue. Ran had found himself a cozy spot right at the back of the cabin on the very last mattress. I was just about to reserve the one next to him when some fellow worker casually planted his bottom on the mattress. I purposely stood my ground before him, glaring at him in horror in hopes that he would notice and move.  
  
After a long battle of staring and stoning, he still failed to notice me. But Ran did. He looked up from his novel to see what was blocking the light. Not that Ran cared. Frankly speaking, the only thing I figured he cared about other than himself was still himself.  
  
Finally, I decided to speak up. I cleared my throat in a loud, deliberate manner. "Excuse me." He ignored me on purpose. "Excuse me!"  
  
"Ken, he's sleeping," Ran said.  
  
I blinked down at the guy. Oh. "I know but--"  
  
The novel was slammed shut with such unnecessary force that I was stunned.  
  
Ran got to his feet and glanced back at the sleeping man. "There are other places to sleep than besides him."  
  
I followed him to another part of the cabin where we both settled comfortably. Maybe Ran wasn't that bad after all!  
  
Ran let out a sigh. "He stinks."  
  
"What?"  
  
"That guy," he lifted a limp arm and pointed lazily at the guy who had taken my spot. "I can't possibly read with such smell entering my nostrils." I stared at him in confusion. "It ruins the mood."  
  
What the hell. Unconsciously, I found myself tilting my head to sniff my underarms. What I smelt I shall not put down in words. It surpasses any form of description, though I will say I was positively filthy.  
  
Looking back, it actually didn't matter where you slept. It was rare to find yourself waking up in the same position when you last drifted off from consciousness. More common to have to untangle yourself from between the many arms and legs all intertwined with yours the next morning, no dirty intentions.  
  
Suddenly without warning, the metal door was slammed open. A well dressed man wearing a pair of specs strode into our quarters. The entire area fell into an awkward silence.  
  
"Listen up, everyone." He paused to scrutinize each one of us. "Firstly, welcome to Singapore. You are here to stay, and you are here to work. So if you're not happy at any point we can jolly well ship you back to whichever third world country you're from, of course at the expense of your wages," he emphasized his last words in the direction of a pair that had engaged in their own conversation. "You may call me Mr Crawford."  
  
Mr Crawford's cologne was beginning to diffuse throughout the room. It was quite a distraction to me as I had never smelt anything like that before. It smelt good. Then he went on to explain the relevant details of the building project we were signed on to do.  
  
Apparently we were supposed to aid in the reconstruction of a school. Until now I'm still not sure which school exactly, except the fact that it was somewhere in the west of Singapore. And it wasn't just any ordinary school, oh no it wasn't. In fact, it was an all girls school. I don't know what I felt right there and then. A whole gush of mixed feelings. He also warned us not to try anything funny with the girls there. That goes without saying. What did he take us for, anyway? Perverts?  
  
"And if you see any suspicious figures snooping around, don't pause to let me know. They could be illegal immigrants for all you know. You'll all go to jail for constipation, if you catch my drift."  
  
If it was meant to be funny, no one laughed. He emitted a sort of frightening aura, enhanced by the creepy pair of specs he wore.  
  
"We start work promptly at 7am. I expect to see every one of you there on time. Schuldig and Farfarello will pick you up at 6.20 so you better be ready then."  
  
I was more than relieved to see him leave. The tension died down and I felt more at ease now.  
  
**********  
  
The circular clock in the room above the door read five o'clock. They took it for granted we could all read analog time. Today was a Sunday. We were all free to hang around till dinner time.  
  
Having nothing better to do, as Ran was indulging in solitude and the rest of the men were lazing around, I arrived at the mess hall early. Breakfast and dinner were served at the common mess hall. Lunch was your problem. Other workers not from my batch were there as well.  
  
A small, rowdy group was gathered around a table at the side of the hall, cheering and shouting and well, just making lots of noise. Curiosity got the better of me and I found myself being drawn to the little gathering like a magnet.  
  
The air was heavily laden with the tangy smell of sweat and cigarette smoke and it just got stronger the closer I got. With great difficulty, I pushed past the layers of men while holding my breath. It was an arm wrestling match between the orange headed guy from earlier today and man with white hair I didn't recognize.  
  
The orange head was evidently losing, with his arm a mere 45 degrees from the table.  
  
"I ain't gonna lose to you today, Farf!" he yelled. Without warning, he placed his free hand beneath the other and yanked their arms to the other side of the table. "I win!"  
  
"You cheated, man!" Farf yelled. Lots of jeering ensued.  
  
"Ah, whatever. It was a for fun match," he replied, grinning insanely. He grabbed the bottle of alcohol resting on the table and slowly got up. He waved the rest of the men out of the way when he caught sight of me right in the front row.  
  
"Hey, you look new. Have I seen you before?" the sentence contradicted itself but never mind, he looked half drunk.  
  
"I.. I think so. Aren't you the guy that ferried us from the MoM?" I asked.  
  
"Oh, I see, I see. You're from the new batch huh? What's your name?"  
  
"Ken Hidaka."  
  
"I'm Schuldig." He brought me to the next table and motioned for me to sit down. I happily complied. I was relieved to get away from the whole bunch of them. "And that guy just now, he's Farfarello. My partner in crime."  
  
Schuldig gulped a mouthful of alcohol down before shoving the bottle into my face. "It's okay, I don't drink," I said, trying my best to smile politely.  
  
"It's a pity you don't drink. It's one of the rare things that aren't actually banned," scoffed Schuldig. I looked at him with confusion written all over my face, as usual. So he went on. "Singapore's a darn strict country. Almost anything and everything you can think of is banned," Schuldig explained, taking another swig of his alcohol. "No chewing gums, no littering, no spitting and if they had banned smoking too I would have just jumped off one of the high rise buildings."  
  
But I guess that's how they got their 'clean and green' reputation. I detested their rules and regulations. Then again, there was another rule that restricted construction hours from 7am to 7pm to reduce noise pollution. That was one of the rules I happily complied with, though for the wrong reasons.  
  
"Where do you come from?" I asked.  
  
"Born and bred in Singapore. A pure citizen. Heh." He fumbled with his shirt pocket, drawing my attention to his sloppy dressing. The top few buttons on his shirt were unbuttoned, exposing his well tanned torso and sleeves rolled up to mid arm. Finally, he drew out a packet of cigarettes and a lighter.  
  
"Hey I think the food's ready. Everyone's gathering at the dispenser table." Schuldig lifted his chin in that direction. "Let's go."  
  
He managed to light the cigarette as we made our way to the dispenser table. "Oi, Farf! Over here!" he yelled on top of all the conversations going on in the hall.  
  
"Okay, Farf this is Ken. And Ken, this is Farf. Have a smoke," Schuldig said. Then he glanced at me. "You too, Ken?" he offered.  
  
"No, no it's okay," I politely refused. I had never tried those stuff before but the smell definitely wasn't enticing.  
  
"C'mon, ken, have a cigarette. Just try one. I promise you, it's good," Schuldig said. "Right, Farf?"  
  
"Yeah, real good stuff. Or are you scared?"  
  
Well, I guess one wouldn't matter too much. These guys were seasoned smokers and they still looked fine to me. How much harm could one measly cigarette be anyway?  
  
"I'm not scared," I said defensively, maybe a little too defensively. I grabbed the cigarette Schuldig was dangling in front of me and put it in my mouth. I sucked hard but it still felt normal.  
  
"Stupid boy, you have to light it. Here, I'll light it," Schuldig offered.  
  
Those two just seemed to attract the crowd whatever they did. The bulk of the people in the hall had gathered again to witness my first puff ceremony.  
  
I drew the smoke into my lungs. This time, the heated chemicals made their way down my windpipe. To the untrained throat, the sudden sense of dryness and fumes entering sent me in a fit of coughing. I pulled the cigarette from my lips to cough out all the toxic that I had just breathed in. But every time I tried to suck in more fresh air, my throat would immediately dry up again, sending me into another coughing fit, again and again and again. I waved my hands in front of me in resignation, signalling that I gave up. Fortunately the coughing fit subsided after awhile it did. My eyes were already tearing.  
  
I realised the many pairs of eyes were still watching me, but I told myself that was it. I wasn't cut out for smoking.  
  
"Aw c'mon, don't be a sissy. Finish what you've started!" Schuldig urged. He blew his exhalation of smoke into my face and I ducked my head to avoid it.  
  
"Yeah c'mon, Ken," a random voice shouted. And many others started chiming in. Soon I was engulfed by their chanting. Like a ritual.  
  
It was as if the whole bunch of them were surrounding me. Suffocating me. Taunting me. Random people were blowing cigarette smoke at me. A sudden sense of fear gripped my heart and I had the urge to run away as fast as I could. If only I had stayed with my batch mates! But it was impossible to run from here. I was surrounded in every corner.  
  
With trembling fingers, I slowly brought the cigarette to my lips for another puff. I had broken out in a cold sweat. My vision was blurry and my breathing erratic.  
  
Just as I was about to breathe in another dose of the poison, a hand reached out and yanked the cigarette from between my fingers. I watched as the cigarette fell to the floor and was promptly crushed by a shoe.  
  
"Leave him alone," ordered a voice that I recognized distinctively as Ran's. It was such a relief to hear his voice again. Somehow his voice brought much comforting. My head was swirling and all the smoke and heat and anxiety was overwhelming me. If Ran hadn't caught me in his arms I might have well fallen to the ground. "What are you guys staring at? Get lost!"  
  
Sneering noises could be heard as the men slowly dispersed from the circle into their different little groups. The air started to clear up.  
  
My face was rested against Ran's abdomen in an awkward position but I didn't seem to have the energy to pull myself up again. Ran gently placed an arm around my back and lifted me up higher so I could take in deeper breaths. He held me close to his body for support.  
  
"You okay, Ken?" he asked softly.  
  
I nodded slightly, "Thanks, Ran."  
  
Ran slung my arm over his shoulder. He slowly walked me a few metres while I staggered alongside him like a drunkard.  
  
"Ken, try and stand upright," he urged, pulling me up from my slouched position.  
  
Fortunately, our quarters were located rather near to the mess hall. Ran kicked open the door to let both of us pass through. Everyone else had already vacated for dinner.  
  
Ran chucked his shoes aside before carefully lowering me down on one of the mattresses. He sighed. "Don't start, Ken. You'll be hooked on for life. You can have some time to yourself now. I'll bring back some food for you later." With a pat on my hand, Ran turned to leave.  
  
"Wait, Ran, stay with me," I choked out. He glanced back with concern in his eyes. His gaze was so intent I had to tear my eyes to look the other way. It was probably homesickness, and he probably already figured. "I'm afraid."  
  
I was glad Ran complied. He moved in next to me. His presence filled me with a kind of security, that at least I wasn't alone in an unknown, faraway land.  
  
************  
  
AN: Sleepyyy~~ The italic words don't come out on ff.net! cheat one.. 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
  
"Rise and shine morons! Time for work!"  
  
Everyone sleeping began to stir at the loud voice that undoubtedly measured on the Richter scale. All the lighting had been switched on too. Talk about inconsiderate. The culprit, also known as Schuldig, stood at the doorway, looking very impatient with a hand on his hip. Murmuring noises of displeasure were heard from every corner. What was wrong with that guy? The sun wasn't even awake yet, damn it!  
  
"Hurry up! We're gonna be late! I get a bonus for getting you assholes down on time, you know. Farf, where the hell are you? Get them out of bed!" Schuldig shouted as he went around the room yanking blankets off the drowsy men. "Oi! Wake up!"  
  
I strained my eyes to take a look at the clock. He was a Singaporean, yet he couldn't tell time. It was 6.20 am in the morning for pete's sake! He was one hour early! How in hell we were gonna be late?! Anyway, I didn't fancy getting into another row with him so I decided to give myself another 2 minutes before getting up.  
  
A few moments later, the smell of toothpaste and warm breath drifted into my nostrils. I suddenly realised there was someone hovering over me, with his face inches from mine. My eyes instinctively flew open.  
  
"Boo."  
  
"HAAAAA!!!!!!"  
  
Farfarello raised an eyebrow at me. "Wakie wakie, KenKen. Don't have to yell at me."  
  
"Shit, you scared me," I breathed out. He was definitely mad. And I was again attracting unwanted attention. The first thing I caught sight of was the disapproving look on Ran's face. Maybe he was just moody in the morning after skipping dinner last night. That was his fault, I did tell him to get dinner for himself but he chose not to. Shoving Farfarello aside, I bent over to retrieve my toothbrush set from my haversack.  
  
"Hey, you all better appreciate us coming down extra early to give you a wake up call!" Schuldig yelled at the cohort of zombies walking past him and throwing him cursory looks. "Morning Ken." He greeted as I walked past him.  
  
"Morning.."  
  
*****************  
  
One by one the workers boarded the truck. Morning air normally smelt fresh, before all the exhaust fumes and traffic started setting in. But not this morning. All thanks to Schuldig, who stood by the truck, smoking as usual, and thus polluting the fresh and clean morning air.  
  
Schuldig found me among the sea of zombies and pulled me aside. "Hey Ken. Sorry bout yesterday. I was drunk. Don't be angry, okay?" he said.  
  
I had always been taught to forgive and forget. It was painful for me to remain angry at anything for a prolonged period of time. "Nah, don't worry bout it."  
  
He whacked me on my back in a supposed friendly gesture and shoved me in the direction of the truck. "That's a good boy." A cocky grin crept up his lips. "Want another one?" He held out an open cigarette box.  
  
I must have paled almost immediately. Before I could respond, he chuckled and tucked the box back into his shirt pocket. "Just kidding, man, don't need to look so accusingly at me. Lunch is on me."  
  
I laughed nervously in return at his crack. Using the tyre for leverage, I flung myself onto the back of the truck.  
  
Schuldig swung himself into the drivers seat. Before long, the starting of the engine could be heard. Only those sitting at the sides had anything substantial to grab on to, which were in fact the rusty railings. I guess I really couldn't complain, because I didn't even own a rusty bicycle to cycle on.  
  
The journey was a bumpy one. Sitting in a worn down van and on the hard metal of the open aired boot, my butt was bruising. I was surprised to find most of the men fast asleep about twenty minutes into the drive. Congratulations to those who managed to catch another forty winks, because I definitely couldn't. Ran was in his usual position, head ducked and eyes trained on the ground, so I couldn't tell whether he was really sleeping or not.  
  
The truck turned left to a slope. There, we were greeted with a long que of cars. On the sidewalk, girls in uniforms were lazily strolling up the slope. While cars with kids in uniforms turned into the main gate, which led to the still functioning part of the school, our truck drove past the gate and further up the slope. Then he turned left, down a curvy road, and left into the back gate of the once-was school.  
  
*********  
  
A man was stretched lazily, seemingly fast asleep, behind the counter of the hut where we were supposed to be checked in. He was leaned back in his chair, with a stripped towel covering his face, and his legs were propped up on top the pieces of papers that clustered the table.  
  
Schuldig pushed through the rows of us that had queued up in front of the hut and up to the counter. He rested his arms on the sill.  
  
"Oi, Youji," he called casually.  
  
No response.  
  
"Youji!" this time a bit louder.  
  
Still no response.  
  
"Youji Kudou!" he yelled, slamming his fist on the table. Youji still didn't stir. Schuldig glanced around briefly and his eyes fell upon a half- filled cup of water resting on the table. Schuldig reached out to pull the towel off Youji's face, casually flinging it onto the floor. Without warning, he grabbed the cup and splashed the water over Youji's face.  
  
Youji flew out of his seat instantaneously. "Holy shit!" He looked up angrily at the person who had disrupted his beauty sleep and trying to dry off his shirt at the same time. "Fuck you, Schuldig! What the hell's your problem, man?"  
  
"My dear Youji, do you not happen to see these boys all ready for work?"  
  
"Well you're a--" he glanced at his watch, "--bloody half an hour early."  
  
"Ahaha. Don't mention it," Schuldig said, flicking his wrist up and down at Youji.  
  
Youji shook his head. "Whatever." He ducked below the table to rummage through some stuff. He emerged with a stack of yellow shirts bundled together with raffia string. "Every one take one. You're to wear this shirt at all times as long as you're working here. It's to notify people that you're a worker here. And hanging behind this hut are helmets. Also remember to wear those at all times.. if you treasure your brains."  
  
For the first half hour, we sat around the site doing nothing. Another half an hour ticked by. Now it wasn't that we were early, it was Mr Crawford who was late. Schuldig was grumbling about how he had wanted to surprise Mr Crawford with our extra early arrival.  
  
When Mr Crawford finally arrived, he didn't believe a word Schuldig said about being early, dismissing it as another one of his 'typical lies'.  
  
"I'm telling you. We DID arrive early," said Schuldig.  
  
"Schuldig. Your brain is but a fraction of my fingernail. Don't argue with me. I know it when you lie and therefore I can't possibly believe a cock and bull story like that."  
  
"Listen, Brad, we really did arrive half an hour early. I swear by the Singapore river and the Raffles statue that I tell you nothing but the truth. If I lie may lightning strike me down. If you don't believe me you can ask Youj--" he covered his mouth. It was a bad move.  
  
"Youji," Brad called. Youji casually walked over from his spot in the hut. An evilly tinted smile graced his lips as his eyes met Schuldig's.  
  
Brad was growing impatient. "So?"  
  
"Shit, Youji, tell him the truth! We DID come early. Honesty's the best policy, you know it!"  
  
Fancy that coming from Schuldig. Most likely on our behalf, Youji spoke in favour of Schuldig.  
  
"Yeah. Half an hour early."  
  
Brad was obviously unhappy at losing out. Anyway, he shouted for us to get off our 'lazy asses' and gave out orders on what to do. I was chucked with a shovel in some form of a pit and told to dig. And so I dug.  
  
By noon, I was overwhelmed by the heat, the noise and the smelly armpits. If it had carried on just a little longer, I might have fainted. But I was saved by the bell. The timeout bell. At 2pm it went off, ripping through the drillings and cranes and what not.  
  
I blindly followed my other coworkers out when someone called me. "Hey Ken!" It was Schuldig. "I got your lunch! Save you the trouble of going out to get it."  
  
"Oh. Really? Thanks," I said, taking the packet from him.  
  
"Oi, how bout me?" Youji asked.  
  
"Go get it yourself," Schuldig said matter-of-factly. He turned to Ken. "Want to go see my 'secret place' on the second level of the left wing? It's a great view from there. What say you?"  
  
Youji's ears pricked up. "Lunch can wait. Hurry!"  
  
"Shut up," he told Youji flatly. "I'm asking Ken, not you."  
  
Before I could reply, Ran called out to me. I turned to face him. Ran was jogging towards me, all sticky and sweaty. Makes me wonder what he had been doing. When I turned around, Youji was already dragging Schuldig away.  
  
Although I already had my packet of food, Ran didn't. He was hungry. Being the good buddy I was, I agreed to travel out of my way to accompany him to the near by hawker centre in 6th avenue.  
  
Hawker centres were something unique only to Singapore. It's a special place where you could actually get good, cheap and -clean- food, despite the not so fabulous appearance. Schuldig bought me chicken rice. Ran saw it and felt like eating it too. So we both sat there skinning chickens. It was nice to have something other than sweet potatoes for once.  
  
We were one of the first to arrive back at the site. We spotted Schuldig and Youji who were both leaned over the railing, squabbling over a pair of binoculars. So Ran and I decided to zoom in on the strange and peculiar sight.  
  
And there on the second level, defying all forms of morality, modesty and Mr Crawford's orders, were the pair, ogling at the flock of scantily clad school girls down below. So like your typical upstanding boy next door, what do you think I did? I joined in.  
  
"Lemme see! Lemme see!"  
  
The girls were dressed in sleeveless shirts and shorts that clung to their asses. They were playing some sort of ball game. Back from where I came from, the women were literally covered from head to toe. I rarely saw past their knees, upwards of course. Today's observation confirmed they were paranoid. It's an irony, because the richer you were the less you wore. I was beginning to feel like a.. peeping Ken. As a matter of fact, I was a peeping Ken.  
  
Ran, on the other hand, was not amused. His expression was grim, his arms were crossed, and he was emitting a very scary aura. But well, no one offered him the binoculars since he didn't ask.  
  
"Typical." He said to no one in particular, though I felt it was aimed at me.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
Schuldig turned to face Ran. "You want a smoke?"  
  
"Guess you're just another one of them, Ken."  
  
Now what was he talking about? If I was so proficient in English I wouldn't be working here. Couldn't he speak in simple sentences?  
  
Youji poked me. "He meant typical pervert. Just ignore him and look straight ahead," he whispered. "He's just seeking attention."  
  
"Unfortunately, I'm not like you," Ran continued.  
  
This time both Schuldig and Youji turned to look at Ran. I was still trying to figure out what was going on. I only felt that Ran was a little unhappy with me? Other than that, nothing else connected.  
  
"Now, now, Ran," Schuldig cooed. He slung an arm over Ran's shoulder. "All because you can't enjoy the women doesn't mean you can spoil his fun."  
  
I suppose that means me. Ran turned his head away. "I'm not gay."  
  
"Nah, no one said you were. You just.. swing neither way. Well, congrats Ran. You've just been defined as asexual," said Shuldig. When Ran failed to respond, he spoke again. "Okay, just kidding. I know you want to watch so quit sulking and enjoy the show."  
  
Ran folded his arms and faced the opposite direction.  
  
"Ran you shouldn't influence the good boy with your dirty mind."  
  
"Look who's talking."  
  
Much to Ran's displeasure, he was then termed as 'Amoeba Fujimiya' for the next few hours to come. As it was too much of a hassle to call out all seven syllables in one go, they resorted to 'Aya'. 'A' from 'Amoeba' and 'ya' from 'Fujimiya'. Coincidentally, Aya was also his sister's name, if I remembered correctly.  
  
And so the drooling continued.  
  
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AN: argh im so sleepy again. I wanted to make it longer.. had more events to write about.. but I realised if I did I probably post chp 3 up one year later or something. And theres so much talking in this chapter. I think that really sucks.. it kinda ruins something.. dunno what. 


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